


But The Fire Is So Delightful

by saltandbyrne



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Barebacking, Bondage, Collars, Domestic, Dominant/Top Lucifer, Fluff, Leather Kink, M/M, Restraints, Soul Bond, Submissive/Bottom Sam Winchester, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-03
Updated: 2012-12-03
Packaged: 2017-11-20 05:10:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/581636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltandbyrne/pseuds/saltandbyrne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His existence is so tangled up with Lucifer's that it only makes sense that some part of his physical self, some soul-wrought brigade of atoms, would make way and mingle with Lucifer's.</p>
            </blockquote>





	But The Fire Is So Delightful

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cashay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cashay/gifts).



> Xmas fic for cashay for the prompt: "Lucifer forgot to mention that their mating would mean Sam would get wings," along with a mash-up of D/s AUs, wing!fic, soul bonding, and domestic stories. Hope you like it!

Sam hasn't opened his eyes for hours now, doesn't need to. He can feel where Lucifer is standing, when he's close and when he stands back to admire the display he's made for himself. He can feel everything Lucifer feels, doubled knot of emotions running down his spine as his own aching, neglected need is mingled with Lucifer's calm approval.

 

The leather restraints creak softly as Sam shifts his weight, shuffling his feet against the hardwood floor of their new home. The lathed oak is warm underneath him, thanks to the radiant heat that Lucifer had installed with the same careful forethought he gave to everything else. Wyoming might be beautiful but it was fucking freezing in the winter time.

 

The fireplace crackles with a pop and a hiss, cozy and warm and so utterly domestic Sam would laugh if he weren't so strung out. It might be snowing outside, but Sam is burning up, light sheen of sweat on his forehead making him itch. He turns his head to try and rub it against his arms, which are stretched out up above him, fleece-lined cuffs clipped to the chandelier chain hanging from from the ceiling joist.

 

The chain will be tucked back up in time for Dean and Cas to arrive, Cas with his dubious fruitcake and Dean with his even more dubious taste in presents. Sam certainly didn't need more porn, not any more, not when the nights he and Lucifer had to themselves were spent like this.

 

He knows it's coming a split second before it happens, which makes the soft cloth against his forehead feel that much sweeter.

 

“Look at you,” Lucifer says softly, wiping the sweat from his brow and kissing him softly. Sam doesn't open his eyes, doesn't need to see to know that Lucifer's beaming at him, Cheshire-cat smile warm and content on his face. “Do you know how beautiful you are, Sam?”

 

And it feels strange to admit, but yes, he does know, feels it seeping into his bones and soothing the ache of his joints as he arches into Lucifer's kiss and tries to jut his hips forward. His cock is straining hard and leaking wet, nothing but air against it as he moves the meager inch he's allowed with the metal bar locked between his legs.

 

“Uh-uh,” Lucifer tuts, side-stepping to avoid Sam's searching hips. “That's not how we're doing it tonight.” He runs his fingers through Sam's hair, sweeping it off his face and sighing.

 

Sam can feel it washing over him like a wave, thrumming through all the once-empty places inside him that Sam almost forgets were there. They'd all disappeared when Sam had said _yes_ , flooded with Lucifer's love, with the other half of his soul that he'd never known he was missing.

 

Lucifer's hands leave sweeping lust-lit trails behind them, roaming over Sam's body with the possession and surety that Sam revels in when they do this. Sam _belongs_ to Lucifer, custom-made and perfect for him, forged together and split in half before time began.

 

“I have other plans for you,” Lucifer breathes into his ear, making Sam shiver. His cock throbs sympathetically as Lucifer's own hard-on presses into his hip, his arousal strumming through their soul bond like a plucked chord. It shakes them both as Lucifer trails a finger up Sam's chest, pressing it into the dip at his collarbone before he curls it under the metal collar at Sam's neck.

 

Sam had expected the collar, used to seeing Castiel's glint gold and green under the fold of his trench coat. He hadn't been surprised, not really, when it had settled on him instead of Lucifer. It had felt heavy and cold for a single second, silver that caught the light in Lucifer's eyes with a red sheen. By the time the tear-filled susurrus of Sam's _yes_ fell silent, the metal had warmed to his skin and molded to his soul, welcome solid weight of it tamping down every monstrous thing inside of Sam that had scared him so much.

 

Sam gasps as Lucifer tugs gently at his collar, sparks radiating out from the point of contact. His eyes snap open as his chest heaves, leather harness sighing against the pressure. Sam dances up onto his toes, hips thrusting forward into the empty air. He's sure he looks ridiculous, but Lucifer's touch on his collar hits his dick like a jump-start, and while they've never tried it Sam's pretty sure he could come just from this.

 

“You're perfect.” Lucifer turns his head with a light hand on his jaw, tracing his finger over Sam's collar as he kisses him. Sam can feel the whine running out of his mouth before he hears it, no other outlet for the desperation building up inside him. It's too much good, all of this, too much love and fullness and Sam's going to explode from it.

 

“Please,” Sam moans, his own frenzied longing mingling with Lucifer's linked emotions, how Sam is perfect like this, how his pleas sound like honey in Lucifer's ears, how Sam wants him inside as badly as he does. Lucifer's finger skates over his collar one last time before it trails down to his chest, blunt edge of his fingernail tracing its wake on Sam's skin.

 

“Alright,” Lucifer says simply, fingers deftly sliding into the buckle securing the leather harness. To anyone watching them, the leather straps criss-crossing Sam's chest would look like any high-class bondage gear. Sam knows he looks good in it, even if it had made him feel a little self-conscious the first time Lucifer had presented him with it. But the leather was supple and warmed to his skin quickly, and the way Lucifer had buckled each clasp like he was performing a sacred ritual had totally sold Sam on leather.

 

It feels good, too, tight across his muscles, pressing back against him with every movement like a physical reminder that Lucifer held him, owned him, cherished him. Sam knows his other half loves the way it looks, too, had felt the satisfied contentment kicking back at him as Lucifer had strung him up and put Sam on display, his own private work of art. While it served all these purposes, it was so much more than that.

 

Sam hears the clink of the buckles as Lucifer pulls the harness from his chest, sliding the straps over his shoulders just slow enough to let Sam know he's teasing. Sam's eyes are slitted open but too unfocused to take in the marks on the backside of the leather, marks Lucifer had scratched in with a knife dipped in their blood. When the last strap slides off Sam's skin, Lucifer lets it fall to the floor with a muffled rattle. Sam unconsciously pulls at the restraints over his head, body going electric-shock taut as Lucifer clamps a knowing hand around the base of Sam's cock.

 

“You can let them out, Sam.”

 

Sam had expected the collar. He hadn't expected the wings.

 

He throws his head back and lets out a long, choked sigh of sweet relief as he flexes his shoulder blades and lets his wings free. They span half the room, displacing the air with a warm rush that ruffles Lucifer's hair.

 

“Beautiful,” Lucifer murmurs, looking up over Sam's shoulder as he keeps his hand firmly grasped around Sam's cock. They _have_ tried this, and Sam can absolutely come just from Lucifer teasing him like this, binding his wings down with leather and blood magic just to free them and set Sam's entire being humming with pleasure.

 

They'd sprung up the first time Lucifer had taken him, folding out of his back and bursting to life as Lucifer filled him up, another part of himself he hadn't known he was missing. They were a part of him like the air in his lungs, like the phantom touch of Lucifer's soul against his own. The first time they'd stretched to their full span Sam had felt every molecule he possessed come alive, like he'd never taken a deep breath in his life until he furled them out and touched them to Lucifer's.

 

Lucifer holds him until the initial shock passes, Sam's heartbeat steadying as he catches his breath and basks in the feeling of being so free in his restraint. He gasps as Lucifer loosens the hand on his cock, giving him one promising stroke before leaving him rutting up against nothing.

 

The whoosh of air as Lucifer spreads his own wings makes the fire roar and sputter, glinting off the crimson tips of each plane. They didn't have feathers, or flesh or bone for that matter. To Sam they looked like an infinite array of shards of glass, tenebrous and immaterial as they bent the light around them at angles that didn't exist on earth. Sam could hardly make out the shape of them except from the corner of his eye, some peripheral attempt by his brain to make sense of something divine.

 

He didn't need to see them, though, not when he could feel them so perfectly, the soothing heat of Lucifer's deep red mingling with his own mellow gold. He sighs with pleasure as Lucifer circles around him, passing through his wings and emerging behind him.

 

Sam knows, in some part of his brain that he doesn't need right now, that everything on earth, everything in the universe is made of fallen stars, atoms recycled and reshaped to make the molecules of everything that ever was and ever will be. Nothing is truly corporeal, not when you strip it down to the protons and neutrons and electrons vibrating away inside of it. His existence is so tangled up with Lucifer's that it only makes sense that some part of his physical self, some soul-wrought brigade of atoms, would make way and mingle with Lucifer's.

 

It feels fucking amazing.

 

Lucifer molds himself to Sam's back, wings pushing through flesh as Lucifer wraps himself around Sam and holds him close, both of them just breathing together as Lucifer gets him wet and ready.

 

Sam was always impressed at the restraint with which Lucifer exercised his abilities. He'd always get his hands dirty instead of snapping his fingers to fix something, claiming that the exhaustion of a job well done was a satisfaction denied him before he arrived here. Lucifer really had installed the radiant heat currently warming their feet, laying it down with his own two hands pipe by pipe for days.

 

But certain things Lucifer deemed worthy of a little “angel mojo,” as Dean liked to put it. While he'd lay pipe and wash dishes by hand, he'd given up on using lube after exactly one fumbling try with a slippery bottle.

 

Sam moans as he feels himself open up, muscles relaxing with a gentle push from Lucifer. The warm slick that starts to pool inside of him and seep out is a familiar sensation by now, wet and welcome as a thin trickle of it runs down his thigh.

 

Sam is sore, and he's tired and his arms are half-numb, but all of these normally-grievous things just serve to make it that much better as Lucifer pushes into him, hard and thick and just enough to burn so sweetly as he pulls Sam's hips back and buries himself deep. His cock rubs over Sam's sweet spot with each thrust of his hips, leaving Sam hovering just on the edge of orgasm.

 

Releasing his hold on Sam's hips, Lucifer runs his hands up Sam's back, slowly sliding them to drag along Sam's skin until they're resting right under his shoulder blades, right at the base of his wings. Sam's breath is shaky and bated with need, too far gone to ask for it now, words like _please_ and _do it_ curling up inside him as his skin runs hot and cold. He knows Lucifer can feel everything, just like Sam can feel the mounting crest of Lucifer's pleasure as he grips his hands into Sam's wings, fingers slipping between formless strands of gold to grab and pull.

 

Lucifer's hips thrust up as his hands pull down, pressure-stretch-pull-perfect short-circuiting Sam until all he can feel is the points in time and space where they meet, where his body and his soul meld into Lucifer's and they both become something new and better as Lucifer spills into him and Sam lets go.

 

Snow and stars dance behind his eyes as Sam comes, shaking so hard he wouldn't be able to hold himself up if he had to, and isn't that the beauty of this, that he doesn't. He doesn't know when Lucifer slipped the cuffs off him, just that he comes to with his angel's arms around his waist while the blush-red tips of his wings circle Sam's wrists and hold him safe.

 

They should clean up and make sure the house is ready for guests tomorrow, sheets and towels sorted and stacked for their brothers. They should make sure they have enough beer and snacks and aspirin for three days with all four of them together.

 

Instead, they lay down on the rug in front of the fireplace, wings wrapped around each other as they drift off to sleep.   


End file.
